Alexander (Vol. 3) (Alexander Trilogy) (17 page)

The Ouxians had never even imagined the possibility of such an invasion and they fled towards the passes where they felt they might be able to organize a more effective defence, but these had already been occupied by Craterus and his assault troops. A rain of arrows greeted the highland people and many of them were killed instantly.

Now the Ouxians were caught between Alexander’s and Craterus’s troops and they surrendered, but the King inflicted a terrible punishment on them – they were to be torn completely from their lands and deported to the plain, so that they would never again be able to block the passage between Susa and Persis.

As soon as they heard from the interpreters about the fate that awaited them, they threw themselves at the King’s feet, imploring him and crying, shouting out in despair. The women and children joined in these laments, but Alexander was resolute – he said that they should have accepted his initial proposal and that in this way they would learn that he never issued empty threats and that no force in the world could ever stop him.

One of the guides from Susa, however, suggested to the Ouxians that they should appeal to Queen Mother Sisygambis, the only person who might have some influence over the implacable conqueror; they took this advice and in secret sent two of their leaders through the Macedonian lines. Four days later, when the cavalry had already reached the highlands along the easier of the two paths, the Ouxian leaders returned with a letter from the Queen Mother written in Greek which pleaded with Alexander to allow these poor folk to remain on their lands:

The letter moved Alexander and quenched his rage – the Ouxians were allowed to remain in their highland homes, paying an annual tribute of five hundred horses, two thousand pack mares and common livestock. They accepted willingly, thinking that this angry young man and his savage warriors would never come back to claim their goats and their oxen and that it was in any case a request they could not refuse.

With the highlands dealt with, Alexander set off again towards the highest pass – a narrow throughway known as the ‘Persian Gates’, across which the Satrap Ariobarzanes had built a defensive wall very high up, impregnable by virtue of its position. The army set off on its march before dawn one freezing morning, across the wind-beaten plateau, while from the grey sky above the first flakes of snow were beginning to fall.

T
HE VALLEY LEADING
to the Persian Gates grew progressively narrower, to the point where it became a rocky gorge, both sides of which rose steeply. It took considerable effort to move forwards though the deep snow and across the sheets of ice with the horses and the mules slipping and hurting themselves, sometimes even breaking legs. It took almost the whole day for the leading troops to reach the first buttresses of the ramps that led up to the great wall protecting the pass.

Then, as Alexander was assembling the leaders of the Thracians and the Agrianians in order to study some means of climbing over the steep banks and the wall itself under cover of darkness, a series of loud crashing noises shook them all – from the top of the walls the Persian soldiers had started rolling down enormous rocks which set off great landslides of rubble that came crashing down towards the bottom.

Everyone started shouting, ‘Out of the way! Move clear!’ – but the rocks moved faster than the men and the result was a massacre. Alexander himself, caught in an avalanche of pebbles, was injured in several places, although fortunately no bones were broken. He immediately gave orders for the men to retreat, but in the meantime the enemy soldiers had taken up their bows and, despite the thickening snow and the decreasing visibility, they fired into the crowd below without ever missing the mark.

‘The shields!’ shouted Lysimachus, in command of the assault troops. ‘Put the shields over your heads!’

The men obeyed, but the Persians were running along the sides of the gorge now, firing arrows at the rearguard who had still not understood what was happening. Only darkness brought the massacre to an end and with great effort Alexander managed to gather his army together in a wider space where they could set up camp. They were all deeply discouraged, not only by the great number of fatal casualties, but also by the cries of their wounded – unable to bear the pain of limbs that had been cut and torn open, the pain of crushed bones.

Philip and his surgeons set to work in the lamplight, closing wounds, pulling out arrow – and javelin heads from the living flesh of the warriors, setting fractures, immobilizing limbs with splints and bandages, even making use of arrows and spear shafts when they had no other material available.

One by one the Companions came to the King’s tent for a meeting of the council. There were no fires nor embers with which they could warm themselves, but the lamp hanging from the main pole spread some light and with it a slight sense of warmth. They were all painfully aware of the incredible and dramatic change in fortune their lives had undergone in the space of a few days – from the luxury and the indulgence of the palaces in Babylon and Susa to the ice and the hardships of this desperate undertaking.

‘How many of them do you think there are?’ asked Seleucus.

‘I don’t know,’ replied Ptolemy, ‘several thousand in my opinion. If Ariobarzanes has decided to hold the pass then they cannot hope to do so with just a few poorly armed soldiers. They must have considerable numbers of crack troops.’ At that moment Eumenes came in, blue with cold, his teeth chattering. His papyrus carrying case was over his shoulder, containing the sheets, the pen and the ink with which he wrote the expedition journal every evening.

Have you counted our losses?’ Alexander asked him.

‘They are very heavy,’ replied the Secretary as he ran through a sheet of hastily compiled notes, ‘at least three hundred dead and a hundred wounded.’

‘What do we do now?’ asked Leonnatus.

‘We cannot leave them out there for the wolves,’ replied Alexander. We have to bring them back’

‘But that will mean even more losses,’ said Lysimachus.

‘If we go out there now we’ll come to grief on the rocks in the dark; if we go out in daylight tomorrow they’ll be able to pick us off from the top of the gorge.’

‘I’m going now,’ said the King. ‘I cannot leave our boys out there unburied. If you’re afraid, you don’t need to follow me.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ said Hephaestion, getting to his feet to show his willingness.

‘You know perfectly well it’s not a matter of fear,’ said Lysimachus, stung into replying.

‘Oh no? Well what is the problem then?’

‘There’s no point arguing,’ said Ptolemy. ‘That’s no solution to anything. Let’s try to give it some thought.’

‘I . . . I think I might have a solution,’ said Eumenes.

Everyone turned to look at the Secretary General and Leonnatus shook his head, thinking to himself that this little Greek specimen always had the answer to everything.

‘A solution?’ asked Alexander. And what might that be?’

‘Just one moment,’ replied Eumenes. ‘I’ll be back straight away.’ He left and returned shortly afterwards with one of the local guides who had accompanied them up to that point.

‘Speak freely,’ said the Secretary. ‘The King and his friends will listen to you.’

The man bowed to Alexander and his companions and began speaking in reasonably understandable Greek, with an accent that sounded slightly Cypriot.

‘Where are you from?’ Alexander asked him.

‘I am Lycian from the Patara area. I was given into slavery as a young man in order to pay a debt of my father’s with his Persian landlord, a man by the name of Arsaces who took me with him when he returned, and gave me his animals to look after while they grazed in this area. For that reason I know these mountains like the back of my hand.’

All those present held their breath as they realized that this poor wretch might have the fate of the entire army in his hands.

‘If you go back into that gorge,’ he continued, ‘the Persians will wipe you out before you reach the bottom of the wall – only small units can operate down there. I know a path, however, an hour’s march from here, that leads up through a forest. It’s a goat track and men can only move along it in single file, but four or five hours ought to be enough to reach the top and take the Persians from behind.’

‘It seems to me we have no other choice,’ said Seleucus, ‘if we really want to move forwards.’

‘I think so too,’ said Alexander, ‘but there is a problem – if the pathway is so very narrow then we won’t be able to get enough of our men up to the top to be able to withstand a counterattack from the Persians. Someone will, in any case, have to engage them head on at the wall.’

‘I will take care of that,’ said Lysimachus.

‘No, you will come with me along the path. Craterus will go with the Agrianians, the Thracians and a battalion of the assault troops, trying to keep losses to a minimum. We will attack at the same time – our men from above, and Craterus from below. A simultaneous attack of this kind ought to throw the Persians into a panic’

‘We’ll need a signal,’ said Craterus, ‘but what can it be? The gorge is too deep for light signals and the distance between our units might be too much for noises or shouts.’

‘There is a way,’ said the Lycian shepherd. ‘There is a place near the wall where the echo bounces across the walls of the gorge – a trumpet blow carries a long distance. I’ve experimented with it many times with my horn to wile away the time when I was out with the sheep.’

Alexander looked at him, ‘What’s your name, Lycian?’

‘My master used to call me Ochus, which in Persian means ‘bastard’, but my real name is Rhedas.’

‘Listen, Rhedas, if you have told us the truth and you can lead us up behind the Persians, I will make you a rich man – you’ll be able to live in luxury for the rest of your days, return to your home town, buy the finest house there with servants, women, animals – everything and anything you wish.’

The man replied without lowering his eyes, ‘I would do it for nothing, Sire. The Persians kept me as a slave, they beat me and punished me thousands and thousands of times for no reason. I am ready to set off whenever you say.’

Leonnatus put his head outside, ‘The snow is easing off

‘Excellent,’ said Alexander. ‘Let’s have supper served and give some wine to all those who have to go with Craterus. Make sure you offer an incentive to all those who volunteer because they’ll have to set off immediately after supper – the Persians will never imagine we’re so mad as to try again so early on. We will follow Rhedas after the first watch.’

The King ate with his friends in the tent, the same military rations that were distributed to the soldiers, and then they each went off to get ready for the night expedition. Craterus set off first with his men, then Alexander, as he had announced, after the first watch, with the majority of the army.

Rhedas led them to the beginning of the path and then up towards the pass through a thick wood. It was a narrow, difficult throughway, cut into the side of the mountain not by the hand of man, but by the centuries-old passage of shepherds and travellers searching for a shortcut on their journey towards Persis. There were moments when the path went alongside precipices and they had to blinker the horses to keep them from bolting in terror; on other occasions it was interrupted by a landslide or made slippery by the ice, and the men had to hold on to one another or tie themselves together with ropes so as not to fall down below and end up smashed to pieces on the rocks.

The guide moved forward sure-footedly, despite the darkness, and it was clear that he could have made the journey even blindfolded. Some warriors, however, actually fell down into the chasm and it was impossible to recover their bodies. Alexander walked behind Rhedas, but he often stopped to help those who were struggling – more than once he risked his own life to save those of soldiers who were in danger.

Before dawn the temperature dropped further and the men found the going even harder, their limbs stiff and already tired by the long ordeal of the night march, but the glow of the sun began to filter through the dense clouds on the horizon and gave them heart – at least now they could better make out the landscape around them and the thinning vegetation told them they were evidently approaching the summit.